Of Sock Drawers and In Between People
by Night.Owl.34
Summary: February was most definitely an in-between month, and I was most definitely not an in-between person.


**A/N: I deleted all of my stories last year as I thought I'd grown out of writing this kind of thing. But recently, after going through some of my old documents, I found this one. I've always liked it a bit more than the others so I decided to edit it and polish it up a bit. Two years after writing it and publishing it, here it is again: Of Sock Drawers and In Between People. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock but I do own this story and plot line. I am the original writer and publisher of it so no need to fret.**

**-Elizabeth.**

* * *

February. It's one of those in-between months; one seemingly only fully enjoyed by those in-between type people. And ladies and gentlemen, allow me to inform you that I am not one of those people.

The month itself flustered me; it was as if it couldn't ever choose which kind of season it wanted to be. Sometimes it was the tail end of winter, but by the end of the month it shouldn't even be allowed to be considered winter because it began to get warm again. Or in other cases, it decided to stay utterly cold and freeze the country half to death with its misleading 28 or 29 days which, instead of being quick and short, were some of the longest days of the year. Again, with the indecision.

And then there was that holiday, smack dab in the middle. Valentine's day. The cupid holiday. The day of love. Whatever you wanted to call it, I despised all the same. It was a ridiculous holiday created by greeting card manufacturers in order to boost their sales because to their knowledge, everyone, and they meant everyone, loved love.

For years I had neglected to celebrate the holiday; it wasn't that I hated love, I enjoyed it as much as the next person. I simply hadn't had anyone to celebrate with until I'd met Nate. We began to celebrate single's awareness day together, as we liked to call it, being best friends since we'd met at Camp Rock when we were 15.

Over the years I'd developed a crush upon Nate and through some cliché series of events it was discovered that the feelings were mutual. We began to "celebrate" our Valentine's days together when we were eighteen; celebrating meaning typically staying shut in watching a movie or something as the holiday still made me uneasy.

Alas February had returned again, as it does every year, and by no means was it any easier for me to cope with than it had been any year prior.

Nate had left for the studio early that morning, leaving me a note on my nightstand for me to find when I woke up.

I groaned as I rolled over, my alarm piercing the silence that had only been previously interrupted by the constant drone of the heater, echoing throughout the apartment.

I was about as much of a morning person as I was a February person.

I slapped my hand down on my alarm, and reached behind it to switch it off, sitting myself up. I stood up and stretched, suddenly remembering that I was meant to the studio by eight that morning.

"Shit- no, no, no, no-," I ran towards my bathroom, stumbling a bit, before jumping into the shower to get ready as fast as I possibly could.

When I was done I quickly got dressed, combing my hair through, leaving my untamed curls to dry as they wished.

I glanced at the clock as I ran around the room, 7:36; the second hand ticking away, taunting me, reminding me once again that I was inevitably going to be late no matter that I promised once again not to be.

After gathering everything I needed, I threw my overstuffed bag onto the half-made bed and went on the hunt for socks.

I frantically rummaged through my drawers for a pair of adequate socks. The thick, cushy, kind-that-you-wear-with-boots-because-New-York-still-has-snow-this-time-of-year type of socks. The February kind.

Ending up empty-handed, I resorted to searching through Nate's drawers. He was bound to have some pair of socks that I could wear, and after four, nearly five, years together I really didn't think he would mind.

So I yanked open the drawer in which I knew he kept his socks. I hunted through it, pushing aside his sweat socks, dress socks, and all the ones without pairs until I found a pair that suited the occasion. I grabbed them out of the drawer and was about to close it when I noticed something.

It was sitting on the bottom of the drawer, having been stashed just underneath the very pair of socks that I had grabbed. It was a box. A small box. A velvet box. A ring box.

I was silent. I slowly reached forward and carefully lifted up the box from its resting place. I slowly, cautiously opened it up. Placed in the little satin center was a thin, braided silver band with a small diamond sitting perfectly in the center. I dropped the box, the silence surrounding me being rudely split at the snap of the lid shutting as the box hit the bottom of the drawer. I was numb.

Somehow I made it over to my bed, sliding down to the cold wood floor, leaning back against the side, trying to make sense of all the thoughts whirring through my brain.

I heard my phone beep, but I couldn't be bothered to pay any attention to it. I just kept questioning to myself how this could possibly have happened. I heard my phone beep again, and a few moments after that it began ringing. Slightly pulling myself from my daze, I reached up onto the bed and grabbed the device, bringing it down to where I could see it.

The caller ID flashed Mitchie's name and picture; I accepted the call, lifting the phone to my ear.

"Mitch-" I said, still dazed.

"Caitlyn! Where are you? You were supposed to meet me outside the studio at seven forty-five, it's after eight, are you okay?" Mitchie's voice rang through the phone.

"Mitchie, I can't come into the studio today" I said, staring at the wall in front of me.

"Why not? Cait, what's wrong?" Mitchie asked, her voice worried, she could clearly sense I wasn't myself.

"I just can't, Mitch," I said quietly, my voice cracking. I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Caitlyn, I'll be right over, just stay where you are, I'll be there in fifteen minutes, it'll be okay, you'll be okay" She said, her tone even more worried than before if possible.

"Okay" I whispered, ending the call and setting my phone on the cold floor next to me.

There was a reason I wasn't okay. For my entire life, I'd accepted but had never done well with love. I was the child of two parents who had divorced when I was at too young of an age to understand, only to find out as I got older that divorce, separation and overall lack of romantic love was a long lasting pattern in my family's history.

In a nutshell I was surrounded by it, immersed in it, affected by it, whatever you wanted to call it; I was scarred by love, and, quite frankly, afraid of it.

Those feelings shifted when I met Nate, I let him in, and I allowed myself to experience what had been broken and taken from me all my life. And as much as I hated to admit it, those feelings, that fear, had never truly disappeared, instead they had just simply buried themselves deeper inside of me just waiting to come out again. And according to that ring box, again was now.

I was a runner, I had no faith in myself for my ability to hold a lasting, acceptable, meaningful part in any relationship I would ever have. I ran from commitment, because I had been damaged by love. I knew myself, and I knew that I was not commitment material; I knew that I couldn't let myself do that kind of damage to anyone, I couldn't put that burden on anyone other than myself.

I had been with Nate four years. Nearly five. That's four, nearly five, years that I had been terrified that I was going to mess something, anything up. Terrified that I was going to take all of those years of failed love that I had experienced my entire life and somehow stain him with any part of it. Four, nearly five, years, of fearing loving him, more so fearing allowing him to love me. Four, nearly five years, of fearing exactly what I had discovered just twenty minutes before.

Fearing him making a step to commit to me, because I knew myself, and I knew that in no way was I ever nor would I ever be competent or even the right person at all for that kind of step.

I realized I _was_ an in-between person; and as an a newfound in-between person, I could never lean fully either way.

I was brought from my thoughts again by the sound of a key turning in the door. I squeezed my eyes shut, listening to the footsteps sound across the hardwood floors as they made their way towards the bedroom.

"Caitlyn, where are you?" Mitchie's voice called through the empty apartment.

I didn't answer, instead I simply listened as the footsteps came closer and closer until they finally stopped and I knew she was standing in the doorway.

"Caitlyn, what happened, are you alright?" Mitchie asked her tone even more worried than it sounded on the phone.

I opened my eyes and took in the sight before me. Mitchie: professionally dressed in expensive jeans, a designer top, and a fashionable coat and pair of boots. Mitchie was dressed as a girlfriend of a famous rockstar should be dressed on her way to work at the studio where said rockstar works as well.

I looked down at my own clothes, an oversized sweater, and a worn-in pair of jeans, with multiple-year-old boots. Hell, I couldn't even find a pair of my own socks to wear; I clearly was not cut out for the job of being in a relationship with someone famous.

Mitchie walked over to me, setting her purse down on the bed, and sitting down beside me on the floor.

"Cait, tell me what's going on, you have everyone worried sick-"

Suddenly, before I could catch myself, I cut her off, "Doubtful"

Mitchie flinched, I assume she was taken aback by my suddenness, "Well, I mean I'm worried and obviously Nate is-,"

"Nate has no reason to be worried about me," I said quietly.

Mitchie looked at me, appalled, "Caitlyn what are you talking about? Nate loves you; of course he has a reason to be worried"

I stayed silent.

"Caitlyn, what's going on? Honestly, you're scaring me here" Mitchie said, her worried tone coming back. "Cait?"

I pursed my lips, my eyes squeezed shut again, "I found a ring," I whispered.

"What?" Mitchie asked, a sense of disbelief entering her voice.

"I found a ring" I said a bit louder, "I didn't have one stupid, freaking pair of socks and I found a ring" I pushed myself off the ground and wandered over to the closet.

"Caitlyn, just calm down, we can talk about this" I heard Mitchie say as she got up. I came back out with a duffel bag and threw it onto the bed.

"Cait, what are you doing?" Mitchie asked as I began to yank open drawers, pulling out my clothes and shoving them into the bag; strictly avoiding the top drawer, the sock drawer.

"I'm packing, what does it look like" I said, my voice bitter to hide my fear.

"Caitlyn, stop, we can talk about this; you can talk to Nate about this" I continued throwing clothes into the bag; I only had two drawers left.

"I'm not talking to Nate about this, I'm leaving" I continued with the clothes.

"Caitlyn-" Mitchie rested her hand on my arm. I shrugged it off and turned back to the dresser, emptying out the second to last drawer of mine.

"I'm not girlfriend material, I never was and I never will be; I'm most definitely not fiancée material. I can't do this, I'm not good with relationships, I just ruin everything; Nate's not choosing the right girl, I'm not the right girl, I mess everything up. I can't stay. I have to leave. He'll find someone else, someone who's better for him, someone who deserves him. I don't deserve him at all, all I do is mess everything up" I zipped the bag shut, having stuffed the last of my clothes inside.

I swung the bag over my shoulder, and grabbed my purse off the bed from where it was still sitting and my phone from off the floor.

I pushed past Mitchie, out into the hallway towards the living room.

"I have to leave," I said, ignoring Mitchie's protests, as I dropped the bag beside

the front door, searching through my purse for my keys.

"Cait, you can't go-", the door opened suddenly, interrupting Mitchie. My head whipped up, my eyes wide

.

There, in front of me stood the last person I was hoping to see at that moment.

Nate shut the door slowly, looking down at the floor towards my bag and back up at Mitchie and I.

"What's the bag for, who is leaving, what's going on?" Nate asked his eyebrows scrunched in worry.

Mitchie stayed silent, and I looked down at my hands where my keys were sitting.

I exhaled,"It's mine, I'm leaving," I said, unclipping the apartment key and placing it in Nate's hand as I turned to go once more. But Nate held on to my hand and pulled me back to face him.

"Caitlyn, what is going on?" He asked. I could hear the sadness laced through his voice.

I swallowed hard, "Why don't you check your sock drawer?" I asked quietly, my voice breaking. Nate's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before his eyes widened in realization.

"I'll just leave you two alone," Mitchie said quietly, as she left through the door as discretely as possible.

Nate set the key on the counter, and took my hand gently, leading me to the couch. I let my purse slide off my arm and onto the floor as I sat down across from him.

"Caitlyn, why would you want to leave?" Nate asked gently.

"Because I can't do this Nate," I said, my voice thick with unshed tears.

"Caity-," Nate's tone turned sympathetic and I recoiled, turning defensive.

"No, Nate, you don't understand. You have the wrong girl; I'm not the one you want to marry,"

"Caitlyn, I wouldn't have bought the ring if I didn't want to marry you" Nate chuckled.

"You don't understand Nate, I can't do this to you" I said, trying the stand up again, reaching for my purse.

Nate grabbed my arm and pulled me back down again, gently. "Do what to me Caity? What is going on?" His eyebrows furrowed again.

I put my head in my hands. "I can't hurt you like this, I can't mess up again, I can't ruin this for you, I can't ruin marriage for you,"

"Caitlyn you're not messing anything up, don't convince yourself that you are, I want to marry you, you need to know that," Nate insisted.

I brought my head from my hands and ran a hand through my hair, revealing my now tear-stained face to Nate. I stood up, Nate followed suit.

"Nate I know myself, I can't ruin this for you. There's a much better girl out there for you, one who deserves you. You'll make each other happy, you'll love her, truly love her, and you'll be perfect together. I'm not that girl Nate, I don't do well with love, you have no idea how hard it is to let myself love you, how hard it is to let myself do that and at the same time know that I'm ruining a relationship for you. I've been ruining it for nearly five years because I mess everything up, Nate. You need to know that I'm not the girl that that ring should be for, so save it. Save it for the girl you're meant to propose to" My voice tapered off at the end as I was reduced to tears. Standing there in front of an awestruck Nate, tears running down my reddened cheeks, an arm clutching the duffle bag, trying to prevent myself from falling apart even though I knew it was inevitable. I'd never felt more vulnerable in my entire life.

"Caity," Nate breathed and stepped towards me. I tensed, and I knew he knew it.

Nonetheless he wrapped me in his arms and held me close to him, burying my head in his shoulder, hand cupping the back of my head.

"Caitlyn, I can't let you go. For as long as I've known you I've known that you're most definitely the girl that that ring is for. I don't care how much you mess up our relationship, because no matter how bad you think you've made it, I'll stick by you the entire way there. I'm not good with love either, Caity, neither of us are. We're both afraid to let ourselves love the other but I'm sure of it, I know it Caity, I know that I love you, and I know that you're the girl I'm meant to be with. I'll be there the whole way through, and I couldn't do that with any other girl because there is no other girl like you. I need you Caity, and I love you, more than anything," I let out a sob into his shoulder as he finished, unable to speak.

He pulled away silently and I dared to glance up at him. He held my face in his hands and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Silently, he left the room, walking towards the bedroom. After a moment, he returned. I squeezed my eyes shut as he came closer and leaned towards me, rested his forehead against mine.

"Caity, you're the one for me and I know it. I love you more than anything in this world and I need you to know that. Caitlyn Marie Gellar, would you please marry me, because this ring was not and will never be for anyone other than you," Nate whispered.

I choked out a sob, as I tried to nod, giving in, allowing myself to melt into him, allowing myself to keep loving him. Nate slipped the ring on my finger, and took my face in his hands once more. I looked up at him, my watery eyes searching his for something, anything. I found more love that I could have ever imagined laced through them; I shut my eyes as he leaned in and crashed his lips against mine. There was that love again, I could feel it, I could feel myself slowly breaking some more, slowly allowing myself to love him some more, allowing myself to fall for him all over again.

And I was okay, because it was an in-between month. An in-between month with 28, sometimes 29 days, and I _was_ an in-between person. But so was Nate. And two in-between people, who feared to let themselves love one another, made a perfect match. Two in-betweens making a perfect whole, breaking through their fears and welcoming in their love.


End file.
